


Blackmail

by Judeyjude



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Asexual Sirius Black, Fluff, M/M, Pining, inspired by wolfstar introvert prompt, james is a famous youtuber, remus is a geek mildy popular youtber, youtube au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2018-11-03 23:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10977177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Judeyjude/pseuds/Judeyjude
Summary: Also, she thought he shouldn’t watch Remus’ videos religiously and he absolutely did not need people with that kind of nonsense thinking in his life.--Sirius has a massive crush on a Youtuber.** On hiatus until 2019 **





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> You can find this on my tumblr @siriuslysarcasticremus. People enjoyed it and wanted more so I'm posting it here thanks to @nachodiablo's recommendation. I might write more if people are interested ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

“Well, well, well,” James sang. “Look who’s back.”

 

Sirius snorted at the lame trademark introduction.

 

“Today you are in for a lucky treat! Not only will I be doing a live stream Q & A, but I’ll be doing it,” James paused for dramatic effect and yanked Sirius in by the arm, “with Pads!”

 

Popping up on the Youtube screen, Sirius raised an eyebrow.

 

“Don’t get too excited or you’ll give yourself a heart attack.”

 

“One can hope.”

 

James dug his elbow into Sirius’ ribs. To the side of the video, comments were flying by.

 

“Wow, people are freaking out about Pads. Damn, I’m kind of hurt, what am I—”

 

“Chopped liver,” Sirius cut in. “Don’t feel bad, Prongs, you’re at a natural disadvantage going up against me.”

 

James punched him in the arm. “First question, EmoUnicorn asked what’s your favorite prank?”

 

Sirius slowly eased into being on camera live, throwing in winks, slipping in sarcastic quips, play-arguing with James. After answering the final question, James grinned wickedly.

 

“Now, before we go I thought we could answer the question you all keep asking—how the hell did I get Pads to join in?”

 

“Firstly, you’re all nosey bastards.” Sirius leaned forward. “Second, I have been oh so fucking blackmailed.”

 

“What was the blackmail, you may ask?” James sighed happily.

 

“None of your business!”

 

“I am _so_ glad you asked, because it’s my most beautiful creation yet, which is saying something.”

 

Before James could go on, Sirius blurted, “It’s a video.”

 

Comments zipped by, _what video?????_ James narrated Sirius’ continuous head banging out of the camera’s view.

 

“This is what you get for cutting nipple holes in all of my shirts,” he snarked. “I made a video compilation of secret recordings of Pads’ raging thirst.”

 

Head planted on the table, Sirius snapped, “I’m not fucking thirsty you fuckface.” Sitting back up, he added in a dignified voice, “I merely have recently started to appreciate someone in a friendly way.”

 

“Oh, but the video disagrees.”

 

“That video proves nothing!”

 

“Oh really? Well, what’s the harm in posting it then?”

 

“I swear to Satan’s asshole I will cut out your kidneys, sell them for a shit ton of money, and throw you in a garbage dumpster.”

 

“Careful folks, thirst can have side effects of psychosis and violent urges.”

 

Sirius slumped against the couch, grumbling, “Not thirsty.”

 

“Everyone’s asking to post the video, so fuck you guys for wanting me to get killed, but I will tell you what’s in it.

 

“A few pieces of Pads singing stupid love songs in the shower, several shots of him spacing out with a dopey smile, one clip looking smitten as a kitten while watching one of said lover’s videos, some other stuff, and my personal favorite, a three minute video of Pads ranting about those beautiful eyes and how much he wants to–”

 

Sirius shoved James so hard he fell onto the floor with a squawk. When James got back up, Sirius shoved him down again because he had revealed that Sirius watched _videos_ which meant Sirius’ totally-not-crush is a _Youtuber_.

 

“What the—no it’s not Lockhart!” Sirius gagged at the guesses people were making. “No, they’re not well known.”

 

James re-climbed up. “The reason he’s looking smug is because he doesn’t want people to see the love of his life. So fucking jealous.”

 

James slapped Sirius’ hands before he could shove him again. Sirius scowled.

 

“Good-fucking-bye you whores and to my main whore,” he turned to James, “don’t even _think_ about continuing this topic while I’m gone.”

 

“Have fun watching their videos!” James yelled as Sirius walked away.

 

“That’s not what I’m doing!”

 

Sirius closed his door and climbed into bed, starting up his laptop. He clicked the bookmark to Wolfboy13’s Youtube channel and replayed his favorite video, the one where Remus ranted about colonialism while hyped up on too much caffeine. Sirius melted into his pillows, having to bite his lip to keep from giggling loud enough that James would hear. Remus’ dark curls were sticking up, not under a beanie for once, and the brightness in his emerald eyes was especially visible.

 

Sirius replayed 3:46-3:52 six times, when Remus falls out of his chair and perks back up, cheeks flushed from laughing uproariously.

 

* * *

  

“Remus, Rem, Remmy, Re-re. Rem-a-dee-dee.”

 

Dorcas dodged the crumpled up notecard Remus tossed half-heartedly. “Piss off. You know I have a midterm tomorrow and I’m so immeasurably fucked. I think I’ve entered a new dimension. I’m seeing little dancing monkeys in my vision saying I’m gonna fail and die.”

 

“Mm,” Dorcas hummed. “I see them too. They’re saying ‘Remus is a big fat nuthead’!” She chucked the notecard back, missing him by a longshot.

 

“This will literally take a second—one second!” She moaned, slouching into their shitty couch even further, nearly knocking her laptop off. “Gah, pretend to love me!”

 

Remus finished another notecard, retaining exactly negative five percent of it. Or less. Dorcas continued to press him.

 

“You’re not curious? At all? Not even a little?”

 

“Nope.”

 

“He said not well known! It could be you!”

 

“Gee,” Remus drawled, pausing his work to look up at her, “what a compliment.”

 

Dorcas rolled her eyes. “Please, as if you want to be Youtube-famous. Last week someone commented immediately after you posted and you stress-ate a whole carton of Ben and Jerry’s.”

 

Remus screwed up his face, sticking his tongue out. She lifted her upper lip to make what they dubbed The Goat expression.

 

“What’s so special about this guy anyway?”

 

“Rem! I send you links to his friend's fucking videos all the fucking time! You said you watched the one about racism with—”

 

“—‘his friend, the hot-ass chick who is Filipino and lived in Japan, so fucking close to the city where you grew up, which means you’re fucking soulmates’,” Remus finished dryly. “That’s memorized word-for-word, by the way. And yes I can confirm _again_ that she is pretty. I did watch it.”

 

Dorcas sighed dreamily.

 

“You think glasses guy likes me? I guess he’s cute in a dorky way.”

 

“No, no. Ugh,” Dorcas burrowed deeper into her groaning sounds mood, “was Padfoot not in that one? Long black hair, gorgeous face, beautiful cheekbones?”

 

“…No?”

 

“Just fucking come here, will you? I read all those dumb history memes you text me. All I’m asking is for you to watch one—one!—video.”

 

After readjusting his beanie, Remus closed his textbooks and neatly organized his notecards on the coffee table. He stood up, leaving his beloved floor pillow, and catapulted onto the not-beloved couch.

 

Snuggling into Dorcas, he sighed. “Alright, play this video of some dude who occasionally pops into his famous Youtuber friend’s videos and has a crush on a low subscriber Youtuber, which is entirely unlikely to be me.”

 

“Don’t sass me, young man. Sometimes it’s fun to be silly and imagine it’s you or whatever.”

 

Remus eyed her dubiously. Crushes sounded like a pain in the ass. Why waste energy he didn’t have by pining away? He started daydreaming about his bed, a much preferable pastime, while his roommate brought up a video.

 

_“Well, well, well. Look who’s back.”_

 

“Oh my god,” Remus moaned, “that’s _so_ lame.”

 

“It’s endearing! Shut up while I find where he comes in—okay…now!”

 

The Youtuber—Prongs?—and someone with orange frizzy hair were doing some type of make-up challenge.

 

Remus winced. “For fuck’s sake take that eyeshadow away from him. It’s not even a flattering color for Prongs.”

 

Dorcas hummed in agreement and turned up the volume. An appalled voice called out, _“What the hell are you shitheads doing?”_

 

_“Pads! Join in!”_

 

 _“Holy fuck, holy_ fuck _,”_ the new voice’s owner popped into the screen, _“what in fuck’s name have you done? Fab put the eyeshadow down!”_

 

Remus had thought Dorcas exaggerated how gorgeous this person was but now seeing “Pads”…if anything, Dorcas undersold him. Sleek black hair braided into a fishtail, gold eyeliner, clear skin, pouty lips, tight leather jacket—not many would deny Pads was beyond aesthetically pleasing.

 

Knowing Dorcas was watching him intently, Remus tried not to laugh at the sassing between Pads and Prongs.

 

“Eh? Eh?” She nudged him with a shit-eating smirk. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

 

Remus huffed.

 

 _“No thanks,”_ Pads scowled _, “tell me when you’re finished recording.”_

 

Remus used Pads exiting the screen to avoid interrogation, pushing himself off the couch. “Well, that’s my cue to leave. I’m going to shower.”

 

“Ooh,” Dorcas wiggled her eyebrows, “you need a shower, huh?”

 

Remus snatched up a stained couch pillow and smacked her over the head, not holding his force back. Quickly retreating out of fist-hitting reach, he banged the back of his knee on the coffee table.

 

“Ha! Karma!”

 

Remus flipped her off as he walked to the bathroom.

 

“Have nice thoughts about your soulmate!”

 

He flipped her off more aggressively.

 

Truthfully, he cared little for Pad’s looks. But the image of him scowling kept flashing in Remus’ mind, how his eyes went a little cross-eyed. It made Remus’ heartache weirdly. And then there was that quick shot when Pads hit the back of Prongs’ head, exposing brightly colored bead bracelets. Remus heavily avoided the voice in his head screaming _adorable_.

 

Remus closed the bathroom door and sighed. He was right—a crush really was a pain in the ass.

 

(And no, he totally, absolutely, definitely did _not_ take a screenshot of cross-eyed Padfoot later that night.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How it all begins; ie. Remus and Sirius have no idea what they are in for

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo I'm setting this up in Marin/SF but inventing the college Remus/James/Dorcas attend. It's basically located in Kentfield where College of Marin is except the campus is much, much larger and isn't a community college. MU = University of Marin. V creative, I know.

This is how it goes:

 

Remus _could not_ afford student residency. As if the school didn’t already cost a fucking fortune to attend. While his scholarship covered a large portion of tuition, a true blessing, it paid nothing for housing. Remus scoured the internet, checking Craigslist for anyone looking for a roommate. There was a post, a little strange, not well put together, but the rent wasn't bad and it wasn't a long bus ride from the university. 

 

He met up with Dorcas outside a Starbucks and she wasted no time, grabbing him by the elbow and pulling him off to the side. She explained she’d turned down four people already and was a great judge of character.

 

“We’ll make this quick. Describe yourself by the first things that come to mind. Like, don’t filter yourself. I’ll go first—she/her, nonbinary. Uh, dark green. Huge paranoia I left my tampon in from my last period and won’t notice for weeks and die. Borderline poor? Eeyore, I suppose. Feel fat, but working on not seeing that as negative.”

 

She stared expectantly at Remus, unnervingly not blinking, and he floundered for a second before trying it himself. “Er, cis male. Flaming gay—well, bi or pan. Poor as fuck. Lightning? Fear of people hearing me poop? Medications. I ate an English muffin this morning. Amen to the body image issues.”

 

Dorcas scrutinized him for all of two seconds. “Was the English muffin good?”

 

“Er, yeah? I mean, it was alright as far as bread products go.”

 

Dorcas nodded thoughtfully. Nodded and nodded and nodded and then she threw an arm around his shoulder, pulling him along for a walk. “Now, we really need to work on this pooping fear of yours. I’m not shitting you—heh—with pooping comes farting and if you keep them in because you don’t want me to hear you, that’s fucking unhealthy you know—”

 

The transition from being complete strangers to living together went smoother than Remus ever expected, considering his anxiety. Dorcas weaseled her way into his life and before he knew it, he couldn’t imagine existing without her and her support. She was the one who pushed him to post that blurry video she took of him singing and rapping about historical time periods for his World History final. The video gained a few thousand views and comments asking for more. Without her, he never would have started a Youtube channel explaining history, literature, and any relevant issue he was interested in. He would never have learned his talent for teaching and making the complex understandable.

 

Dorcas Meadowes was the beginning of everything.

 

—

 

_**Two years later; April 2015** _

 

Remus jiggled the key in the lock to his and Dorcas’ apartment, slamming his shoulder into the door. He thought by this time he’d have been used to their shitty door but if anything, it was more irritating. Which meant he groaned even louder when he stepped through the threshold.

 

Shouting to be heard over the loud music, he asked, “Really, Dorky?”

 

“What?” She turned the volume down.

 

Remus dropped his backpack to the ground and began untying his shoes. With his feet free, he padded down the short hallway and into the small kitchen. Dorcas sat on the couch twenty feet away in their living room/t.v. room/only-room-besides-their-bedrooms. She looked at him expectantly as he leaned against the kitchen counter. “I never want to hear music ever again. Stupid students playing their stupid music in the stupid courtyard. Any repetitive lyrics are banned. You try and sit through a Mark Twain lecture while your mind is blaring _‘all she needed was some’._ ”

 

“Maybe the world’s trying to tell you all Mark needed was some. I believe it.”

 

“Yes, well, I, Remus, need some quiet and money and sleep.” Remus straightened up and walked over to the couch, sitting on the opposite end of Dorcas and pulling his knees up. “Maybe death, too.”

 

“Don’t we all,” Dorcas drawled. 

 

_Ex's & Oh's_ began playing softly on her computer, a change from the constant week-long Lana marathon. Remus considered his roommate and best friend. Dark circles framed her under eyelids but the same could be said for him and most people they knew.

 

“You’ve been playing music nonstop for a few days now,” Remus said. “Is this a mood?”

 

_“Is this a mood?”_ Dorcas sassed back and Remus chuckled.

 

“You know I actually mean it, though. No neurotypical shit.”

 

Dorcas sighed. “I don’t know. It’s not a mood- _mood_. Just a mood. Don’t give me that look, Remus John Lupin! Fine, if it gets worst I’ll call Dr.Asshole.”

 

Remus moved his leg, pressing his toes into Dorcas’ thigh, and smiled. “Do you want to get fries?”

 

Dorcas squinted. “You just got home and you have a six-hour shift in four hours.”

 

“So?”

 

“You usually go to your room and enter the world of death. Sometimes I check to make sure your breathing.”

 

Remus dug his toes deeper and Dorcas slapped his foot. “Sleep is for the weak. I need Dorky time.”

 

Dorcas squinted harder. “Will these be pity fries?”

 

“Absolutely.”

 

She perked up and shut her laptop. “You driving or am I?”

 

“I don’t care as long as it’s silent.”

 

Snorting, Dorcas stood up and began making her way to the doorway, shimmying her shoulders. “ _All Mark needed was some, all Mark needed was some_.”

 

—

 

“Should I—”

 

“No,” Remus cut Dorcas off.

 

They stepped forward in sync as the line moved. Dorcas glared and Remus leveled her with a look.

 

“Don't pretend you weren’t going to ask. If you want cheese and onions and weird shit on your fries, go ahead.”

 

They stepped up to the open register and Remus began ordering, asking for animal style fries first. By the end, Dorcas popped her head over Remus’ shoulder, saying _never mind_ on the animal style, as expected. While Dorcas filled up their cups with Dr.Pepper and Sprite, Remus looked around. It was fairly crowded in In-N-Out but he spotted an open booth. He walked over and slid in on the white plastic, waving Dorcas over. Remus waited until someone called their number and Dorcas retrieved their fries before pulling out the McDonald’s bag from Dorcas' purse and the red pockets of fries inside.

 

“To pity fries,” Remus said, holding up a flopping McDonald fry.

 

“To pity fries,” Dorcas echoed, tapping his with an In-N-Out short fry. “When are you going to do another video?”

 

Remus sipped his Sprite. “Dunno. Finals are coming up and I’m out of ideas.”

 

“This is prime time. All the best videos come from sleep-deprived Remus with dark circles the size of whales and surrounded by soda cans, coffee mugs, and Red Bull. That Churchill video,” Dorcas waved a fry, “ _iconic._ ”

 

“I honestly don’t even remember filming that one.” Remus sipped his Sprite, thinking how the ratio of bubbly water to lemony-limey syrup was off.

 

“Well, if you ever want help,” Dorcas finished her sentence by pointing to herself. “Did I tell you I saw my soulmate yesterday?”

 

Remus yawns. “The one from Prongs’ video?”

 

“No. I ran into the gas station to grab some candy and the cashier had a mole on her neck.” Remus didn’t say anything and she rolled her eyes. “Neck, Rem. Exactly like mine. It’s fate, I know it.”

 

Smiling, Remus popped a handful of fries into his mouth, more than happy to listen to Dorcas. He could feel a headache beginning behind his eyes and the dread for tonight’s shift trickled in. No classes until afternoon tomorrow, though, which meant sleeping in. He stared at the red palm trees on his cup filled with Sprite, wishing it had caffeine. Alas, Dorcas had banned him from it for the next three days. Something about a "goddamn health cleanse" so he wouldn't "die". 

 

They finished up their fries.

 

Dorcas regarded Remus solemnly. “The verdict?”

 

Remus tapped his chin, his eyebrows furrowing. He settled on, “In-n-Out.”

 

Humming appreciatively, Dorcas agreed. She picked her phone up off the table and brought up the Pity Fry note on her Notes app. “That makes it one hundred and twenty to ninety-six. Micky D’s still the reigning champion.”

 

They grabbed their trash and tossed it out. As they walked out the door, they passed a group of teenagers.

 

“I wonder where Prongs is moving. How cool would it be if they moved to Marin?”

 

Dorcas gasped and slapped Remus’ arm. 

 

“Ow, frick-frack, Dork.” He rubbed the reddening patch of skin. “What the hell?”

 

“Remus! Did you hear them? Prongs and Padfoot are moving!”

 

Remus readjusted his beanie. The twist in his stomach was most definitely from too much fast food. Not over some stupid blue eyes. “Oh, yes, they are going to move to San Rafael and hey, maybe they’ll conveniently enroll at UM and I’ll have a class with Padfoot and we’ll fall madly in love,” Remus said and held out his hands. “Now hand me the keys.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

This is how it goes:

 

Sirius was in the middle of escaping the foster home when James cornered him.

 

“What are you doing? Who are you running from? Did you do something bad? Sometimes I do bad things but they are always for fun, mom calls it mischief. Are you mischief-ing? ‘Cos if you are, you have to let me play, too.” James was even more pushy and annoying as a six-year-old. “Why do you have bruises? Why’s your hair so yellow? Do you not talk? I know three languages!”

 

It turned out James’ third language was three Spanish words—azul, hola, and el gato. By the time Mr. and Mrs. Potter found them, James had made Sirius cry and laugh equally as hysterically for the first time in two weeks, the first sounds he made. He refused to leave Sirius’ side and demanded that his parents “buy” Sirius.

 

James came to Sirius’ first therapist appointments. He never told anyone when Sirius wet the bed from nightmares. He learned sign language with Sirius in middle school, for the days when Sirius couldn’t speak. In high school, when he started a Youtube channel and became famous for it, he always edited Sirius out if Sirius asked him to and kept Sirius’ identity as much of a secret as he could. In the first year of college, James took that stupid history class and discovered wolfboy13’s channel. 

 

James Potter made sure Sirius had beginnings that would lead to everything.

 

 

_ **14 years later; May 2015** _

 

“Thank you Mashmalolz,” Sirius whispered.

 

James’ big exam started at seven a.m. tomorrow morning and he had gone to sleep early—nerd. It had been almost two months since the Q&A video and nothing had changed, really. There were ridiculous theories on Tumblr that James had shown Sirius. People speculating who his crush could be and some people still blabbered on about it in the comment section. Sirius passionately avoided passing by James while he recorded his videos now.

 

But nothing had changed with Remus. Sirius didn’t know what he had expected, but he dreamed that Remus somehow figured out he was the mysterious crush and contacted Sirius. The best fucking dream Sirius had ever had, not even tainted by James finding the journal pages Sirius wrote about it on. 

 

Unfortunately, Remus did not message James for Sirius’ number and he did not fly to LA to take Sirius on a date. Sirius couldn’t even be comforted by Remus’ loveliness because he hadn’t posted anything new in three weeks. 

 

Three weeks!

 

James was absolutely at fault for this. Plus he was an annoying shit who ate Sirius’ Cocoa Puffs.

 

So, Sirius snuck into James’ room and found his laptop. He plugged the charger in to keep it powered all night and brought up Mashmalolz’s ten-hour long Youtube video playing the beloved lyrics of Hide and Seek on loop. Pressing play, Sirius gradually brought the video’s volume up, being careful to not wake James, until it was at full volume. James snored on. 

 

Creeping back out, Sirius set an alarm on his phone to go back in, turn the video off, close the tab, and delete the history at five a.m. He walked into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of chocolate milk.

 

“Cheers,” he mumbled, clinking the glass to the duck taped miniature beer can their Fortune Cat statue held, moving it up and down with its paw.

 

—

 

_Y the fuck is mmm whatcha say stuck in my head??????_

 

Sirius snickered at the text and stuffed his face with cheddar and sour cream chips in a gas station parking lot. Officially, he was in therapy. Unofficially, he loitered around somewhere for an hour to keep up the illusion to James.

 

_I’m waiting for Andy Samberg to show up with the gun and shoot me_

 

_Idk how but this is ur fault u piece of shit_

 

_How can it be not funny to funny to not funny to funny?? it’s not even the full line anymore it's just mmm whatcha-mm what-mm wh-mm_

 

_Hope therapy is going well xx_

 

A little ball of guilt formed in Sirius’ stomach as the last text came through. But he didn’t want to go to stupid fucking therapy where that fucking idiot tried to tell him shit he already knew. She never understood Sirius, anyway. Stupid neurotypical therapists thinking they knew mental illness. _“But you know you are loved, right? You understand that?”_ Yes, Elizabeth, for the fucking millionth time I understand that and know that on some level, yes, I know that the Potters have stuck by me for fourteen years, but the thing is, I have this little thing called a disorder that affects my thinking and no matter what, that fear will always be there, you complete and utter fucking moron. 

 

James was brilliant at loads of things but therapy wasn’t something he understood. Sometimes, it wasn’t about trying hard enough. Sometimes it didn’t work. Recovering wasn’t a simple formula of pills and therapy.

 

Also, she thought he shouldn’t watch Remus’ videos religiously and he absolutely did not need people with that kind of nonsense thinking in his life.

 

All Sirius wanted was a cute interested-in-men-in-someway boy, some Cocoa Puffs, and a mind that didn’t want to sabotage himself. Was that too goddamn much to ask?

 

A pigeon nearby cooed.

 

“No need to be fucking rude,” Sirius said to it. 

 

He and James were moving back down to San Francisco in a month. Maybe the change of scenery would be good for him like James kept chirping cheerily about. They were going back to live with their parents, Euphemia and Fleamont were getting old and needed more help. James received his acceptance letter to MU a few months ago and Sirius, the lazy shit he was, had nothing else to do so his location didn't really matter all that much. Helping the Potters meant the world to him, though. He’d do anything to repay the debt he owed them for taking him in and loving him unconditionally.

 

Shoving the last chip crumbs into his mouth, Sirius crumpled the plastic bag and tossed it into the trashcan. He stood up from the curb and began meandering his way to the bus stop, hoping Remus was doing well with his final exams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here is the [link](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y3Y4Ls0FvPQ)  
> to mmm whatcha say for all you sinners.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus uploads another video and Sirius has some Feels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt randomly spurred into doing this ridiculous chapter and hope it's enjoyable ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Sirius opened his mouth, on the verge of screaming, but stopped himself after a beginning _ah!_

 

“What was that? ARE YOU OKAY?” James called from down the hall. They had to shout to hear each other now that they lived back in their parents’ enormous San Franciscan house.

 

“NOTHING! I’m fine!” Sirius was not in any way, shape, or form “fine”. Remus had uploaded a video. _Remus had uploaded a video._ He clicked the link, deciding he’d watch it once, then tell James about it so he could act cool as they watched it together “for the first time”.

 

Sirius focused on his breathing as the video loaded. 

 

_Shaky camerawork and a blurry hand come into focus on the screen. Then, a little too close, is the face of a pretty woman. She has short black hair and blunt bangs that she pulls off effortlessly._ Sirius thought back to his terrible bangs phase and scowled. Who was this woman? Remus never had anyone in his videos. Was this his girlfriend? A prickle of irritation ran down Sirius’ spine.

 

_“Hi,” the woman whispers. “So, Remus doesn’t know I’m filming this.”_ Sirius hated her. “ _So be quiet.” She winks._ Sirius very much hated her. _“I know you’re probably wondering where Remus is and I’d love to show you.”_

 

_She stops talking and the camera shakes violently as she seems to tiptoe through an apartment. After some soft grunting and the camera being moved around, the frame finally becomes focused on Remus—passed out on a countertop, drooling, with his arms and legs in the oddest, most uncomfortable looking positions. Crushed cans of drinks—nonalcoholic—and a spilled jar of sugar surround him._ Sirius brought his laptop closer and yes—Remus’ hand was curled possessively around a blender.

 

_Suddenly, the shot cuts to the woman sitting in Remus’ room—_ Sirius _hate_ -hated her with a giant period— _and she grins a Cheshire Cat smile._ “ _Okay, so I don’t really know editing and this video will probably look shit—_ ha, no kidding, Sirius thought— _but Remus will be asleep for several more hours and after this video, I think you’ll agree that he needs it. Okay, so cue Sponge Bob narrator voice and Ten Hours Earlier.”_

 

_The shot cuts to Remus—_ Sirius paused, soaking him in. His curls had grown out, spilling out from his favorite beanie. Well, Sirius’ favorite beanie, stripes and polka-dots. Remus had a Look on his face that reminded Sirius of the Churchill video from last year—sleep-deprived, hyper-focused, and a little crazed. Like someone who had gone several minutes arguing with a shithead and was determined to come out winning the debate, ready to fucking burn down the world to prove a point. 

 

Sirius was oh so tempted to drag his cursor over the video and see little shots of what was to come up in the following seconds and minutes. But no. He could be strong. He had waited this long—he deserved for all of it to be a great surprise.

 

One must cherish a Finals Week Remus like no other.

 

Sirius pressed play.

 

_“Hi, so I don’t fucking know what I’m even doing this video about.” Remus chuckles, running a hand over his beanie._ Sirius clutched his nonexistent grandmotherly pearls to his chest. _“But, um. So, you guys will be studying with me! I’m, er, doing this project presentation on—well, you guys know I’m taking a World War Two class this semester, yeah?”_

 

Sirius found it adorable how flustered Remus was without a subject prepared. He hoped none of Remus’ followers gave him shit for it.

 

_“Okay, I haven’t brought this up,” Remus straightens up in his chair, his focus found, “because I get weirdly worried about my videos getting around to my professors. And this professor.” Remus leans back in his chair and scoffs at the ceiling, shaking his head before sitting back up. Remus pauses, pursing his lips for several seconds before continuing, “He’s a real piece of work. But I’ll be uploading this video after class officially ends and I’ll never have him in any of my courses again! I’d rather take a six a.m. class then my most favorite subject with him._

 

_“We have a final, a paper, and a project due. My project, chosen by none other than me, is on love letters sent during the war. Specifically, gay—using that term as an umbrella term for all sexualities—letters. The things is, these letters were censored, right? People looked through them. And there was no way in hell you could get by writing to your gay sweetheart if your names obviously sounded same-gender. So, a lot of couples would use aliases under a random opposite-gender name.” Remus’ hands start moving around as he speaks._

 

Now, this is where the video starts getting weird.

 

_The shot abruptly cuts to Remus chugging a can of coke. There are two crushed cans on the kitchen counter beside him and his beanie is sliding off backwards. The camerawork is shaky again, this time clearly recorded from a phone._

 

_“Remus! Stop,” the woman from before says out of view, but she’s laughing._

 

_Placing the can on the counter and wiping his mouth, Remus ignores her. “He doesn’t believe it!” Remus shakes his head angrily. “Homophobic piece of_ shit _, Dorky! How can you be a_ professor _of_ World War Two, _a person with a_ PhD, _and not believe in gay wartime sweethearts! He honestly, wholeheartedly believes,” Remus stares at Dorky with a horrified expression and pained voice, “that no gay people fought in the war. Not one gay!”_

 

_“Not one gay,” Dorky whisper-mocks._

 

_“He says, ‘the Army would have sniffed them out and kicked ‘em out’!”_

 

_The shot cuts back to the original opening scene of Remus, clean-cut but still sleep-deprived. He’s silent and he has hands clasped with his pointer fingers raised like a steeple. His lips are pressed against the steeple and Remus looks deeply into the camera. He moves his hands away, opens his mouth as if to say something, and then changes his mind, pressing his lips back to his fingers. He squeezes his eyes shut._

 

_The shot changes to Remus, in a different shirt, standing on a couch with his arms raised in the air. “GIVE ME THE STRENGTH!”_

 

_Cutting back to Remus’ room, Remus shoves a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. “I mean,” he shrugs, “some people say ‘No. Remus, no this is a terrible idea and he will fail you. Remus, you’re just a petty piece of shit.’”_

 

_Cut to Dorky shouting, “Rem, you fucking petty piece of ass shit, put the red bull down.”_

 

_Remus, across the room, cradles the can to his chest and raises his eyebrows tauntingly._

 

_Back to Remus from earlier with the ice cream, nonchalantly saying, “No. I’m not petty, I am_ right. _And if he fails me, that’s not my fault.”_

 

_Cut to Remus, beanie off and hair sticking up. He’s in the kitchen again, with the different shirt, and he’s bouncing on his toes. “If he fails me, it’s because he’s a fucking coward! A COWARD. Sonvabitch knows I’m right and an F is just blatant proof of prejudice! Fail me, fucking do it!”_

 

Sirius paused the video and bit his lip, trying to contain the beaming smile off his face. Remus hardly ever showed his hair and it was amazing, Sirius was in absolute awe, and he would never say that wild hair was ridiculous ever again. James had sullied Sirius’ impression of unruly hair and Remus had finally shown Sirius the light. 

 

With a deep breath, Sirius pressed play to continue the kitchen scene.

 

_Remus grabs an empty can of coke and chucks it across the room. He instantly looks over the camera, guilt hanging heavily. “I’m sorry. That was rude.”_

 

_The camera shot shifts to the ground, Remus’ feet passing by as he goes to retrieve the can. Dorky’s wheezing laughter can be heard._

 

The rest of the video contained a mish-mash of numerous shots, not nicely put together, but easily the most hilarious thing Sirius had watched. The scenes got progressively more hysterical as Remus downed more and more caffeine and sugar. At one point, Dorky realized that the Sprite can Remus had been drinking from actually was secretly filled with Dr.Pepper, a soda with caffeine. He squatted in the corner of their living room and swatted at Dorky’s hand trying to snatch it away while still holding her phone. 

 

At another point, he cried as he read a letter from a gay dude who was ineligible to go off to the front. His boyfriend, on the other hand, was drafted.

 

_“Sniff me! Fucking sniff me! Can you sniff out the gay, Dorcas? CAN YOU SNIFF OUT THE GAY?”_ Was another fabulous shot—Sirius saved this confirmation of Remus being some type of gay to evaluate in the shower later during his daily existential crisis.

 

The ending was fifteen cuts of Remus saying _aw, jeez_ in various tones and states—the ultimate sign of Supreme Caffeine Remus. Swearing Remus meant that shit was about to go down and _aw, jeez_ Remus meant shit was gonna go nowhere you expected. His hand gestures went from small to everywhere, swinging his arms around as he talked and explained, even hitting Dorky/Dorcas in the face on accident.

 

_“Rem, Remmy, Remus,” Dorcas says, poking at Remus, now lying on the counter. There is still no explanation for how or why he got there. It’s clearly early morning. “You gotta go to your real bed.”_

 

_“Fuck off.” Remus hugs the blender. Earlier, he had turned it on with nothing inside of it, looking the camera dead in the eye and saying, monotone, that the sound keeps him alive._

 

The screen went black for three seconds and then it ended.

 

Sirius stared, not sure if he was even breathing. 

 

Fuck, he was going to have to watch this fifteen times before he could even show James and act cool.

 

“SIRIUS!”

 

Sirius nearly flung his computer across the room. He swore and then shouted back, making sure the irritation was clear in his voice.

 

“DON’T BE SO PISSY! YOUR BOY MADE A VIDEO FINALLY! COME HERE!”

 

Well, fuck. 

 

—

 

“You owe me for this,” Remus said.

 

Dorcas rolled from her back onto her stomach, lifting her sunglasses up. “For which?”

 

“You know,” Remus said, tucking his legs further into the shade, “I like that your answer isn’t _for what_ , as in asking what I’m referencing. But no, it’s _for which_ , because of the numerous accounts that you could owe me for, you don’t know which one out of the many that I’m talking about.”

 

“Ugh, piss off.” Dorcas rolled back onto her back. She basked in sunlight on the slanting grassy slope on campus. Remus sat next to her under a tree.

 

“You’re not even a student here. You’ve graduated. Are you even allowed?” Remus asked.

 

“She doesn’t even go here,” Dorcas said under her breath and chuckled, slipping her heart-shaped sunglasses back on. “You’re doing gross summer classes and I’m an extension of you, so I can do what I want. What do I owe you for anyway.” 

 

“The video! You didn’t even include the most informative parts.”

 

“Remus, your follower count, like, doubled after that video. You knew it was gonna be a shitpost Finals Week video anyway. I’m sorry if it really upset you, though.”

 

“I’m not,” Remus answered honestly. He flipped his textbook page. If he had really hated it, he never would have posted it once classes ended—two weeks after Dorcas edited it together and he’d seen it for the first time. “Although now I’m getting comments asking if I’m dating your ugly face.”

 

“And about the sexy moment when your shirt rode up during the sugar fiasco,” Dorcas said, calmly, as if it didn’t make Remus’ face flame.

 

“Shut up,” he said, lifting his book up higher and closer to his face. He shouldn’t have egged her into bickering, anyway. She was being unnecessarily kind by tagging along with him as he prematurely studied for his new summer class. She made sure he didn’t obsessively check his Youtube channel or fall into anxiety spirals.

 

They uploaded the video a few days ago. Remus still felt iffy about it but his friends loved the Snapchat stories they got of that night and loved the video even more, so he figured he might as well post it. He supposed it was expected of him, being a mess with a capital M during finals week. This semester had run him particularly thin, as many probably have figured out by now.

 

“Hey, that girl is checking you out over there. Maybe she’s your soulmate.”

 

Remus didn’t look over. “Maybe she’s yours _._ ”

 

“No, I met mine in the supermarket today. Remember?”

 

“In the pasta section, yes. Didn’t she have a kid?”

 

“Eh.” Dorcas moved in the corner of Remus’ vision. He knew she’d want to get moving soon, her hypomania had been acting up and staying in one place for too long led to agitation. “Kid was cute. I’d keep it.”

 

Remus chuckled. “And what if the kid was ugly?” He began packing up, sliding his textbook into Dorcas’ old bag—gently, because the copy was rented and worn thin.

 

“Throw them to an orphanage.”

 

“You’re terrible.”

 

Dorcas shrugged. She stood up and held her hand out for Remus, helping him to stand. They walked to the car, shoulders knocking. 

 

“You know who’s an orphan?” Dorcas asked.

 

Remus took a moment before indulging in her question. He sensed something was up. “Who?”

 

“Padfoot.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Oh, shut up. You know who I’m talking about.”

 

“Okay, so, he’s an orphan?” Remus prompted. “I don’t see where this is going.”

 

“Well, isn’t that sad?” Dorcas stopped on the sidewalk, looking imploringly at him. 

 

Remus shifted away from other people’s paths. “I guess. It depends. You never know what a biological family is like. And it sounds like he was adopted and Prongs’ family seems very nice.”

 

Dorcas’ eyebrows rose above her sunglasses. “How do you know that? You’ve been watching the videos?”

 

“Just a few.” Remus adjusted his backpack straps. “Can we keep walking? People are looking.”

 

“Are not. You’re just being paranoid.” Dorcas started walking anyway, smiling and holding out a hand. Remus took it—she was always much more tactile in these moods and he never minded. 

 

“Would you ever date a fan?”

 

“I hardly think I have enough to be considered someone who has fans.”

 

“You’re grossly modest. Answer the question.”

 

“I don’t know, Dorky. I doubt anybody is watching my videos because they think I’m cute. Nobody’s crushing on a nerdy, poor, crazed hermit.” They reached the car and Remus tossed her the keys, letting go of her hand.

 

“I think you underestimate—”

 

Remus never head the end of her sentence, because Dorcas got into the car and closed the door, muffling her words. And then she refused to unlock his door for five minutes, cackling from the inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they're getting closer to meeting, I promise!

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! you can find me on tumblr here[siriuslysarcasticremus](https://siriuslysarcasticremus.tumblr.com/)  
> 


End file.
